Lost but not Found (The Joker)
by gothicwh0re
Summary: Eliza had been in Arkham for over five years. With an intellect and attitude like hers, things became rapidly boring for her. However, a trip outside her cell changed everything. Lost but not Found Copyright Ellie Goodson 2016 All Right Reserved. None of the literary work may be reproduced, re-made or used without written consent from the author.
1. Chapter 1

© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter One-Arkham Asylum

~Eliza Blue~

Arkham Asylum was my home. For the past five years, this was the only thing that I could be certain of. For the past five years, I had never known anything different. Sometimes I felt like a mouse, running around in a maze. I couldn't see where I was heading, and I came to continuous amounts of dead ends. All the same, nothing different. I just wanted to find the exit.

For someone in a mental health Asylum, preserved especially for criminals, it was a commonly known fact that I had a really rather high intellect. I was aware of all manner of weird and useless facts. I knew a lot of things, and I understood the science of the world in the most interesting of ways. For instance, I knew:

•That if you ate a Polar Bears liver, you'd die from an overdose on Vitamin A.

•That even if you're dead, you can still get goosebumps.

•That the body of Jeremy Bentham-the famous 18th and 19th century philosopher-is stuffed and stored in the University of London.

•That the Woolly Mammoth was still around when Pyramids were being developed.

•That if you were to remove all of the empty space from the atoms that make up every single human being on Earth, the whole population could fit into a single apple.

Still, I didn't feel that there was any need to lock me away in a cell because of my intellect. Due to the fact that I have been confirmed to be mentally ill, I now took homage in a small cell in the one and only, Arkham Asylum. Even though my name was Eliza, I was naturally called _Einstein_ for a nickname. The reasons as to why were obvious. Before being sectioned in Arkham, I had hoped to have been a scientist in either Biology or Chemistry-or both-one day, hence the reason I knew a wide variety of weirdly wonderful facts and figures.

The door of my cell slid open. The hinges creaked in pain before silencing. A familiar red head snaked into the room milliseconds after the final squeal. "Morning, Einstein." It was my cell 'mate', Helga. I wasn't all too happy to find out that I was forced to share my cell with a less intelligent person, or anyone at all for that matter, but apparently being a criminal meant that I had no human rights at all. Helga originated from Scotland, which explained the unusual flaming red hair, piercing green eyes and freckles that dotted all over her face, however she had been born and raised in Gotham, so the Scottish accent was untraceable in her voice.

My dear friend, Helga, was in Arkham for one reason. She had simply murdered everyone who had ever mistreated her in school. That concluded in around thirty, dead young adults. Instead of being over a large period of time, she had killed them all in one day. Using everything and anything to end their pitiful lives. All of these facts and figures, this gruesome information, resulted in Helga earning a spot in the same cell as me. She earned her very own cell mate, who couldn't care less about her extravaganzas.

Pinching my nose, I took a deep breath. "Helga, it is the afternoon. I would appreciate it if you used the correct time phrases when communicating with me." Long ago had I understood as to why I was partnered with Helga. I was brutally honest, not afraid to speak. Everyone else was petrified of this Scottish brute, whereas I was not. I listened carefully as Helga made a mockery of me, my eyebrows raised. With my eyes remaining trained on the opened door, I grunted along to whatever it was that Helga was rambling on about.

Concluding that the red head would never understand my eye signals, I lifted my body from its laying position and strode over towards the cell door. In Arkham, we were given a certain amount of freedom. We had individual cells, and the doors remained unlocked. However, if you were to leave the cell, you would find yourself in a bigger cell. A larger cell that held several small cells. Arkham's layout was very particular and precise, and I was firstly fascinated to wonder how it all worked. Now that I knew, I was bored of it.

Each individual cell was built into the Asylum's walls, when you exited the cell, you would find yourself in another one. However, this cell was made out of bars, so it was more like a cage than anything else. The cage walls attached themselves to each cell, connecting them all to the actual cage in order to form a large square. Inside this cage is where each inmate was allowed to socialise. If you were inside of this cage instead of being inside of your cell, you would find yourself being heavily guarded. Guarded by men and women with guns and Tasers and small earpieces which allowed them to communicate with other members of the Arkham staff. Everything you said was recorded; you had no secrets in a place like Arkham.

When the thick, metal door was closed, I rotated back around so that I faced my cell. It was a sight that I had grown used to. However, I had originally found it unbelievably hard to get my head around when I was first sectioned. For example: the walls were painted a disturbingly bright shade of yellow, too bright to suit the idea of a cell for a mentally ill criminal. The colour fitted that of a children's nursery, or a small child's bedroom. The floor was stone, which fitted Arkham better than the walls; however it contrasts hideously with the yellow.

On opposite sides of the room were two identical beds-at least they were originally identical. One of the beds had been left in a tangled mess, and also had brown splotches on it-stains of dried blood. That bed belonged to the Scottish brute. The other bed was neatly arranged, with a small pile of books centred perfectly in the middle. A bare light bulb shone out light from the naked ceiling, making the shade of yellow that was splattered on the walls even uglier than before. There was one, small square window on the far wall of the cell. It overlooked Gotham city, so that you could watch pollution thicken our atmosphere and hear the cries of damaged families and the screams of the victims. Gotham was a hell hole. It made Arkham-an asylum filled with criminal psychopaths-seem like a summer play school.

Those were the only accessories in my small home. That was all I had been left with for five years. Helga was added in two years ago for extra excitement. The girl was young, only twenty. For her age, she had a wide build. She was twice my size-in width-and was still rather tall. Her arms and legs bulged with muscles, muscles that were still visible underneath the clothes she wore. Helga wore khaki knee length shorts and a cream button up shirt. Her feet were covered in black socks, and that was as far as clothing went for her. The red hair that she wore so proudly reached about her jawline, making her face appear to be rounder in shape than it actually was.

Currently, Helga was lying on her bed in the stargazing position. Her sheets were tangled between her legs as she stared blankly up at the ceiling. "Tell me something interesting, Einstein." She said, her mouth being the only thing that moved. "I'm open for anything."

"A male giraffe will taste the urine of a female giraffe to see whether she is ovulating or not. If she is, he will therefore proceed to mate with her." I replied, my voice blunt. Silently, I crept back to my side of the cell before taking a seat back onto my neatly prepared bed. I didn't lie down; instead I perched on the edge.

"I didn't ask for something disturbing."

"However, you did ask for me to inform you on something interesting." I retorted, my eyes narrowed.

After receiving a sharp nod from Helga, I continued my current position but allowed myself to slip into thought. Helga may not have owned a Scottish accent; however her voice was rather deep for a young woman. Although she was a brute, her appearance was shocking enough to make you forget about all of that for a little while. Then you began to understand her, you learn about her, and all you could ever see after that is the Scottish brute that she was. Nothing else. On the other hand, there was nothing spontaneous about my outlook. Although, I knew that my personality was extravagant enough to make up for it.

My appearance consisted of: pale blonde hair that trailed down my back, skin as pale as snow, with a few freckles dotting over my nose and cheeks (nowhere near as many as Helga though), bright red lips that were always set in a thin line and eyebrows that were constantly furrowed together. I had a heterochromia iridum, which meant that my left eye was a bright and fierce shade of blue, while my right eye was a light shade of brown, more like a hazel. A pair of reading glasses usually rested on the end of my nose, not because I needed them, but simply because I wanted to wear them, and no one could stop me.

There wasn't much to my body. I was rather thin, so I lacked in curves. Unlike Helga, I didn't own bulging muscles. This meant that I appeared to be younger than twenty five. My clothing choice was simple. I wore denim jeans and some form of t-shirt. My feet were shoed with black ballet pumps, and that was all that there was for my outer appearance. I looked like every average woman on the outside; it was the monster within me that had placed me in Arkham.

The silence around Helga and I was blissful, in a strange way. It didn't make your ears ring, or your head hurt with all of the thoughts. It didn't make you feel uncomfortable, or make you feel the need to say anything. It just felt like silence. Of course, silence never lasted with a woman like Helga. She would always pester you, like a rodent. "Einstein..." She faded off, as if slightly unsure of her next words. I peered at her through my reading glasses, the expression of annoyance clear on my face.

"Yes, Helga?"

"Why don't you ever go to the outer cell?" That was what we called the cage around us, the outer cell. Quite literally because that was all it actually was.

In all honesty, there wasn't exactly a precise reason as to why I chose not to leave my cell. I preferred not to socialise, but that resulted in me not knowing anyone else. My curiosity had been piped every so often, but it wasn't enough to make me leave the comfort of my cell. I pinched my nose, knowing that Helga's next words were bound to be of more questions. "I just don't understand as to why you choose to stay in here. Don't you ever get bored of the same sight?" Yes. "Don't you ever want to meet anyone else?" Sometimes. "Haven't you ever just wanted to make a new friend, someone that wasn't me?" I wouldn't have called us friends, but Helga did have a point.

I knew for a fact that, if you wanted to get someone annoying to shut up, you'd have to tell them something they want to hear, or do something they want to have done. With this logic replacing the truth, I trained my eyes back onto the door. "If you shut up for the rest of the afternoon and evening, Helga, I'll go and visit the outer cell." With my words said, I received a continuous amount of suspicious looks for the rest of the day. However, not a word was said. Nothing, not even a squeak, escaped Helga's mouth. It was quite soothing, to know that a little bribery could bring such peace. However, I was a woman of my word. If Helga continued to keep quiet, it looked like I would be taking a trip outside my comfort zone tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter Two-The outer cell

~Eliza Blue~

When morning arrived, blinding me with piercing sunlight, I was not in the best of moods. To be honest, I never was. However, on this occasion I was especially displeased. I woke to the sound of Helga thumping around. It appeared that she was pacing, as if anxiously waiting for something to happen. "Oh good! Einstein you're awake." She chirped when she caught me glaring at her.

"Indeed I am, thanks to your inability to pace quietly. You lack consideration for others, Helga."

After shooting me an apologetic look, I realised precisely why Helga was so on edge. I was supposed to leave my cell today, and she was increasingly concerned that I was going to back out. However, I was a woman of my word. I knew for a fact that I would be leaving the comfort of my cell; whether I wanted to admit it or not, I was curious. One is never satisfied with all that one knows. Since the Scottish brute was already clothed, I sent her off so that I could dress and refresh myself. When that was done, I would face the consequences of my actions. Although, it was worth it. Helga didn't utter a word, not even in her sleep.

Leaving my hair falling over my shoulders and down my back, I slipped my black ballet shoes on before making my way over to the cell door. I had my reading glasses balanced on the end of my nose, and a chemistry book clutched between my arms. True, I was showing all of the signs of someone who was nervous and completely unprepared for the situation ahead, but that would've been completely out of character for me. Never, did I ever get nervous.

Now I knew a lot of scientific facts:

•There is enough DNA in the human body to stretch to the Sun and back, and a bit more.

•The word 'scientist' first appeared in 1833.

•The chicken is theorised to have come first, not the egg. The protein that makes the shell can only be produced by hens.

•Scientifically, you can charge your phone using urine.

•Scientists can also grow teeth from urine.

However, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't decipher what was going to happen in the future. There was no way I could predict what was to happen outside, in the outer cell.

I had hoped to simply sit in the corner, reading my book, ignoring the world. Helga couldn't have moaned because I was still in the outer cell, and that was all I had agreed to do. However, when I opened the heavy, metal door, I knew that my plan was going to shatter. The cage was infested with criminals, all socialising in their own ways. Immediately, I spotted Helga, who was sat opposite a man who looked half the size of her. They were playing some form of card game, but from the distance I stood at, I couldn't see what exactly it was that they were playing. I was so busy trying to decipher what Helga was playing that I hadn't noticed something until it became painfully clear.

Every conversation in the outer cell had died. Every eye in the cage was trained on me. I was being studied, assessed, in the most harshest and obvious of ways. Feeling judgment burn holes all over my body, I collected myself together and strode over to a small chair in the corner, holding as much dignity as possible. Many things were said, but only a few were heard.

"She's never left her cell before. I haven't seen her since the day she got sectioned."

"Who the hell is she?"

"That's Eliza Blue, she's a mad scientist."

For an actual fact, I wasn't a mad scientist. People seemed to confuse intellect with such a phrase. Pretending to not hear anything that was said, I took my seat and opened up my chemistry book. Helga was going to pay severe prices for even bringing the subject of the outer cell up. My eyes slitted as I caught the Scottish brute waving my way. I'd stay for half an hour. Half an hour, thirty minutes, one thousand eight hundred (1,800) seconds. Then I'd go back to the comfort of my cell, never to return.

I was only half way through my sixth page when a gloved hand was thrusted into my personal space. The glove was purple, and made out of leather. Staring at it, I lifted my head slightly so that I could get better sight of it. "The idea is the shake it." An unusual voice said, causing my eyes to flick up.

"I am aware of what a hand shake is you-" The words died in my throat at the sight of the man before me. The sight was like one I had never seen before. Extraordinary and spontaneously otherworldly.

Standing from my seat, I gently took the man's hand before shaking it slightly. My eyes remained trained on his wondrous face, so unique and unbelievable. Firstly, his face was painted a pure white, however small patches of peach coloured skin blotched through in certain areas. Black eye paint was smeared all around his eyes, reaching just under his eyebrows and just above his cheek bones. The man had thick scars trailing up his cheeks, forming a permanent smile on his mouth. Smeared over his lips and scars was crimson red lipstick. Just his face made him look like a killer clown.

The clown man had shaggy green hair, it needed brushing, and most likely washing, but it was still an extravagant contrast. His clothing was oddly formal, which made his outer appearance even more spontaneous. A purple blazer like coat rested over his shoulders and he wore a green waistcoat-buttoned up. Underneath that was a blue, hexagonally patented shirt. He wore a tie, a purple one that was slightly too loose around the neck. The top button of his shirt was undone, revealing his neck that was pure skin. The man's trousers were purple, his socks were multi-coloured and his office shoes were brown.

With my mouth opened slightly, I absorbed the clown's appearance. Never had I ever seen something so despicably beautiful. "Eliza Blue." I managed to mutter eventually. "What can I do for you?" I dropped the man's hand, for it appeared that I still held it in a tight grip. I noticed, for the second time this morning, that the clown man and I had an audience.

"I hear you get called 'Einstein' a lot, why is that?" He replied, changing the subject entirely.

"It appears that I have the highest intellect in Arkham, or at least that is what I'm told." I sat back down in my seat while the clown man collected one for himself.

With my book resting back on my lap, I tore my reading glasses from my nose and placed them on top of the book. "I don't want to offend you, but I must ask. You didn't introduce yourself, so I am without knowledge. Who are you?" My voice was calm, quiet and steady. It shouldn't have been. My heart was beating rapidly and my palms were sweating slightly. I felt like a performer, with a spotlight centred on me and this clown man. Every eye in the room was on us. From the corner of my own cold eyes, I spotted Helga waving her arms about, trying to catch my attention.

Turning my head slightly so that I faced the brute, I saw that she was gesturing wildly for me to get away from the clown man. Her eyes were wide, her skin was pale, there was sweat dripping from her forehead and she was licking her lips regularly. All of those symptoms were signs of panic, but I couldn't understand why she was so panicked. The clown man seemed lovely enough. Helga suddenly froze, and her arms dropped to her side within milliseconds. I followed her eye line to see what it was that had made her stop her rampage, only to find that the clown had caught sight of her warning.

Slowly, the man turned back to face me. I saw a certain coldness in his eyes that I was all too familiar with, for my very own eyes were constantly filled with the same emotion. "Don't mind Helga, she's all brawl and no brain." A light laugh escaped the clown man's lips at my words, although I failed to see what was so funny. I was only speaking the truth.

"The Joker, that's what you can call me. Everyone else in this cell does." I made a mental note to one day find out his real name; it was only fair as I gave him mine.

The Joker failed to reveal much else about himself, and so when the time came for our departure, it appeared that I was entering my cell with the need to know more. Knowledge was a drug; it was the most addictive drug that anyone could get addicted to. Without knowledge, we couldn't survive. To live, we needed this drug, this drug that made you crave intelligence more than a person without air could crave oxygen. More additive than heroin, meth, cocaine and every other fatal drug. Knowledge was a drug, and I was tragically addicted.

Visiting the outer cell wasn't the mistake I thought it would've been. In a way, it had felt nice to just...breathe. Breathe in air that was different, feel a completely new type of atmosphere, hear different voices and feel different furniture. For five years, I had felt the same thing, breathed the same air, heard the same voices and seen the same scenery. It was healthy to finally leave the comfort of my cell, of the yellow walls and concrete floor, and to finally do something different.

As for the Joker, he was a taste of something different. He left me in the dark when it concerned him, in a state of mystery and unknown that made my heart pound and stomach drop whenever I thought about it. I was curious to find out as to why Helga warned me away from him. The clown man had a touch of danger to him, a deadly frenzy in his eyes and a mystery to what was beneath the make-up. Apart from that, no harm was brought to me throughout our encounter, and so, as it stood, I saw no danger. No red lights that told me to get as far away as possible, Helga being an exception here.

Back in my cell, where I rested on my back on my neatly made bed, I gazed up at the ceiling with a blank expression. Helga had joined me a few minutes ago; since then she hadn't taken a seat, instead she had hovered in the corner, eyes trained on me. "Helga, you dimwit, if you have something to say, then please do just say it." With that, words began to pour out of the Scott's mouth in a rambling state.

"Eins-you can't be around him-he's dangerous and-he'll hurt you-he needs to be avoided-he's like a-and he will-and it'll kill you-poison-that's it he's-poison." I took a deep breath, my eyebrows furrowed together.

"Helga, do not interact with me if you cannot do it properly." It was the red heads turn to take a deep breath, or several.

"Einstein, you cannot be around the Joker. He's dangerous, he hurts people and you'll get killed. He's completely insane. He's poisonous. Like a snake."

Unfazed by Helga's warning, I continued to stare at the ceiling. I decided against correcting her, for not all snakes are poisonous. "He's intelligent, he hasn't hurt me, he introduced himself to me, and besides, I'm curious to see what's underneath. Helga, I can take care of myself. _You know I can_." Helga was the only person-apart from the people who put me in Arkham-that knew exactly why I was in the Asylum. The brute was smart enough to hear the warning in my words, and so she took a seat back on her bed before sighing.

"I tried to warn you Einstein. You're supposed to be smart, but if you really were you'd listen to me." With that, she laid down on her side, her back facing me.

Soon enough I fell asleep; the dark enveloped me blissfully. The right side of my brain had full control over me. So I had nothing creative and spontaneous about my personality. Dreaming was a rare occurrence. This was exactly why I felt so shocked to dream; even in my unconscious state I felt the shock. For the first time in months I dreamt, and it was of the clown man. Like Helga had said, in my dream he was dangerous. Deadly to the point where in my very own dream, I was murdered by the Joker.


	3. Chapter 3

© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter Three-The monster within

~Eliza Blue~

Morning arrived after brief hours of disturbed sleep. There was a loud hum that vibrated in my head, causing the sensation of a miniature person drilling on my skull. It was painful. An ache rested in each eye, and a form of hot fire was working its way down my nose. Under my eyes and all over my cheeks felt sticky and stiff. When I wiped over them, hastily, I realised that it was tears that were causing this. It appeared that I had been weeping in my sleep.

My night has consisted of the horrors of the many ways the Joker could kill me. Drowning, suffocation, gutting, shooting, stabbing, even cannibalism at one point. All of these were in graphic detail, and Helga's word echoed as back ground noise in every dying dream. Just because I was cold hearted and labelled as a complete psychopath, didn't mean that I didn't get scared. Anyone would've been terrified if the Joker had done to them what he had done to me in my dream. It had forced me into tears. This was precisely why I didn't do dreaming, nothing good ever came from it.

Distantly, I could hear feet shuffling around on the concrete that was our floor. A large, dark figure loomed over my resting body, causing all of my reflexes to suddenly take action. My eyes snapped shut, my body balled in on itself and my hands stationed themselves at my face for protection. "Einstein, is everything okay? You don't look so good." The voice of the dark figure brought immediate relief, which was something that had never occurred to me before.

"Helga!" Any form of fright was long gone, and anger bubbled as a replacement. "You loon! You absolute imbecile and fool! Why would you sneak up on someone like that?"

My hands shoved at the brute as I scrambled into a standing position. With my fists clenched and lips pressed into a thin line, I felt the oddest sensation of deja vú. My stomach was in knots and my heart was beating so hard that my rib cage ached. I could see my reflection in Helga's wide eyes. Red face and ears, slitted eyes, chest heaving breathlessly and-most shockingly-tears that were dripping down from my heterochromia iridum eyes and onto my rose red cheeks. The liquid that dripped was hot, burning like small balls of fire.

"Einstein, you're...crying."

Turning my face away from the brute in shame, I wiped under my eyes so furiously that pain began to burn on my cheeks. "No I'm not. Be quiet!" My teeth were clenched shut, gritting against themselves as I fought against the sensation within that tugged at the demon trapped inside of me.

"But, Eliza, you're crying! You never cry, ever!" It was after those hysterics that something snapped within me.

"I said shut up! Now shut up you stupid brute!" I clutched at the nearest objects-a hard back biology book-before throwing it right at Helga. The entire thing whacked her around the face. One of the corners caught her cheek, forming a large split. The book caused her nose and lip to bleed, and from the force of my throw, I knew that there would be bruising.

My chest was heaving, my veins were pumping with adrenaline and my whole body burned. Sucking in a deep breath, I allowed the tears to trail down my cheeks as I prepared myself to hit Helga were it hurt. "Get out you useless waste of space. You're a brute, and you'll never be anything more. Get out!" The words left my mouth as a scream, my voice echoing against the cell walls and hitting Helga twice as hard. I watched as the brutes face crumpled like a paper ball. Her own eyes now filled with tears. Blood still trailed down from her cheek, nose and lips while small bruises were beginning to appear. Finally, she admitted defeat and stormed out of the cell, slamming the door so violently that it was left shaking in its frame.

It took an overall ten minutes before I had calmed down significantly. My body was left completely exhausted from all of the anger that had left it. I had hammered against the walls with my fists, had kicked it with bare feet until I felt some anger drain. Eventually, I allowed myself to rest on my bed, which had small splatters of Helga's blood on it. Every part of me shook while the adrenaline left my system, but the tears continued to roll down my face. Not a sound was made as all emotion left me. I ensured that my body faced the wall while I curled into a ball and cried as if I hadn't cried in years. To be honest, I hadn't.

I had wanted it so badly. Every fibre in my body had ached for it. Just like five years ago, every single part of me had wanted to unleash the monster inside of me. Five years ago, I had done so. Five years later, I had kept it caged, and it hurt so much. It had pained me to allow the pathetic Scottish brute leave the cell alive. Physically pained me to not give in to what I wanted the most. Never, had I ever wanted to do it so much. To lace my fingers around someone's neck, or to beat someone with a book until the life left their eyes. Never, had I ever wanted to kill someone as badly as I had wanted to ten minutes ago.

When all emotion had finally drained from my body, I wiped over my eyes before pulling them away hastily as a pain erupted all over my face. Curious, and slightly worried, I cautiously stood from the bed and made my way over to the small mirror on the far wall. Under my eyes were a dozen small bruises. My lip was split at the bottom and my knuckles and feet had cuts, bruises and blood all over them. Blood was pooled all over my clothing, and even that was torn as if claws had lashed at it. My hair was a mess, my eyes were swollen and bloodshot and I still trembled like an addict that had been forced to go an hour without its needed drug.

What others thought of me, I didn't care. But I knew for a fact that Helga cared for what others thought of her. If I was to leave the cell looking the way I did, which was ten times worse than Helga, then others would be idiots and think that she had beaten me and left me to die. That was all that Helga cared about, people fearing her. Really, me forcing her out looking the way she did made her seem weak. For she was twice my size, and I had beaten her with a book and sent her away. But leaving the cell and showing others my appearance, then it would look as if Helga had done worse to me.

Taking a deep, shaking breath, I strode over to the cell door and tugged it loose. This would be my way of making it up to Helga, by making sure that everyone thought that she was still a brute and I had finally pushed her too far. But I knew, really I knew the true reason for me leaving. This was just a cover, just a cover to hide my real reason for leaving the cell. When the door was opened, I was faced with every eye in the outer cell training itself on me. Each eye scanned my appearance, judging what I looked like before settling on the fact that I was weak and Helga was still a brute.

My very own eyes scanned the room, searching desperately for a particular figure. Apart from knowledge, it seemed that I had found a new addiction. When I eventually spotted the clown, I felt my heart jolt in my chest. He was sat in the corner, shadowed but still there and able to be spotted. His dark brown eyes were trained on me, and I could just make out a small smile that played on his lips. With burning feet and an aching body, I slowly started to make my way over to him. The grin on his face widened to a broad smile. His fingers were clasped together and I watched intently as he relaxed back into his seat.

Just before I made it to the Joker, a tall figure stopped me from continuing to walk by pressing a hand to my chest. I allowed my eyes to trail up until they rested on the figures own green eyes, feeling both the brown eye and the blue eye of mine slit into thin lines. All I could see were his eyes; his silhouette was distinguishable enough to know his gender only. "Move your hand, or lose it." I warned, venom oozing in my voice. "I have had a very bad day, and if I don't see this clown right now, I am about to murder every stupid criminal in here with my bare hands. Get out of my way." Even though I was half the size of the figure, I watched as fear turned his skin white before he backed away from me.

Before I could move, I heard the faint sound of clapping erupting from the Joker. "Well, I must say that I'm impressed." His wide grin had crept back into being a sly smirk. "That was my...body guard. He's one of the hardest people to scare, and I believe he'll be having nightmares tonight because of you."

"I try my hardest." My reply was blunt, but I wasn't here to mess around.

"I see you do. Tell me doll, what can I do for you?" Before replying, I quickly thought everything over. I cautioned my actions, made a hesitant decision and concluded that I could blame no one but myself for the consequences.

"I need to talk to you."


	4. Chapter 4

© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter Four-The story

~Eliza Blue~

Sitting opposite the Joker was a strange feeling. It was different compared to the last time we were in each other's presence. Now, it was serious. The overall atmosphere was...darker, deadlier. "Well then, Einstein, talk to me." There was an unmistakable tone of playfulness in the Joker's voice, and that aggravated me slightly.

"Since the day I met you-which was only yesterday-Helga has worn me away from you. Last night, I had several nightmares, all of which you would murder me in a different way each time. Since yesterday, since I met you, everything has started to change. And I don't know why. I want you to tell me why."

Without meaning to, I had unloaded everything onto the Joker within a few seconds. "What I meant was-"

"No, no." He interrupted, the smile dropping from his face. "I know what you meant." He sat forward, his face coming closer to mine than I had thought was necessary. "Helga knows that I have a dark past. Like she knows that you have a dark past." I was momentarily shocked. How did he know? "She thinks I'll hurt you, and she thinks I'll kill you. I heard her little speech about snakes." A small smile played at my lips, I couldn't help it. "It's these thoughts and words that made you have your nightmare you know."

Letting my head drop, I sighed heavily. "You're only telling me stuff I know. I want to know what you've done that has made her so terrified of you and for me."

"I'm a murderer. Like you." My head shot up. He couldn't know, he couldn't know what I had done. "Just like you, I enjoy it way too much. We're both mad, you and me. We both have a little monster that likes to _play_ with dead bodies." My mind was racing. He knew. He knew everything, everything I'd done and exactly why I was in Arkham. "My body count is higher than yours. Then again, you were always so careful that it took you longer. I was more...messy." My heart was beating like a rabbits once more. The Joker knew it all, everything. He knew everything and anything; someone could've quizzed him on it.

With wide eyes and shaking hands, I swallowed a few times before gathering the courage to speak. "Why did you speak to me that day?"

"I'd heard of you before. You were Eliza Blue, the mad scientist that never left her cell. You hadn't left you cell for five years. It was rumoured that you had killed randoms. It was rumoured that you had killed your family. It was rumoured that you were caught murdering many different people. Every rumour stated that you were a murderer though. Then I met you. You were even more than I had expected. Your intelligence wiped away some of the rumours, and your personality killed some of the other rumours. I knew immediately that you had taken an interest in me, and I had taken a deep interest in you."

Two fingers were tucked under my chin, forcing my head up so that I faced the clown. Our faces were centimetres away from each other. "Some criminals rumoured that you gave yourself a heterochromia iridum. Apparently you found a way to mutate the stem cells in your eyes to change the colour of one of them."

"I was born with it. This mutation came from my parents." I couldn't help the bitterness in my tone of voice as I spoke.

"I'm curious to know what happened today. There was a commotion going on in your cell, your voice was the most prominent one. Then Helga came out with a bruised and bloodied face, crying hard. There was screaming coming from the cell, and a few bangs before you eventually came out."

Pulling my face back, I rested against the chair before finally speaking. "My nightmares, they scared me. And then Helga, the fool, scared me even more. I got angry, and when I'm angry, I cry. She just wouldn't shut up about the fact that I was crying."

"You lost your temper?"

"I threw a biology book at her, that's what did the damage to her face. And then I used words, and I hurt her until she went away."

"But that wasn't enough, was it?"

"I was still so...angry. So I hit the walls, kicked them and punched them until the anger had drained from my body. I screamed and cried, tearing at my clothes until I was too exhausted to feel anything anymore."

With my head resting in my hands, I took a few deep breaths. "I know that the brute's reputation means a lot to her. And I'm well aware that I look worse than her. I am also aware of how single minded the criminals in here are. All I had to do was show my face, and they all assumed that Helga had beaten me. It was the only way to make it up to her in some way." Laughing to myself slightly, I sat up. "I must seem so transparent."

"You don't. Maybe you are to me, but the other criminals, they don't know a thing about you."

It was here that we both lapsed into silence. I took the opportunity to truly absorb the way the Joker looked. He had broad shoulders, and a beaked nose. He was rather tall, taller than me, but he didn't tower over me. His eyes appeared to be really dark, but when the light hit them in a certain way, they sparkled against the sun. His hair was dyed green, for you could see brown roots on top of his head. His lips curved nicely, and were rather full. The Joker's jawline was strong, and there was something hidden in his eyes. I couldn't quite decipher what it was, but it appeared to be rather...eccentric.

Heat rushed to my cheeks as a certain thought passed through my mind. My face only reddened as I caught the emotion in the Joker's very own eyes. I had only known this psychopathic clown for a day, and yet... "Why do you look at me like that?"

"Like what?" I asked, trying to appear as innocent as possible.

"Like you want to devour me." He replied, something hidden in his voice.

"Well, why do you look at me like that?"

"Like what?" It appeared that we were now playing a game, a competition between each other.

"Like you want to tear off my clothes." I couldn't help the smirk that plastered itself onto my face as I caught the Joker's peach skin redden slightly.

Pushing my chair back, I stood up slowly before resting a hand on top of the Joker's. "It was good speaking with you. But we have unfinished business that cannot be finished now." With my words spoken, I turned my back on the Joker and started my way back to my cell. Something about me felt lighter, better. My talk with the Joker had cleared my mind slightly and made the pain inside die just a little. However, my head felt heavier, worse and more pained. If the Joker knew everything about me, then that gave him the opportunity to tell everyone else. I also needed to know how the hell he knew about me and my past. Somewhere, deep down and locked away, were other emotions that I wasn't ready to face yet. I planned on ignoring them until they could be ignored no longer.

Back at the cell, I noticed that someone had been inside. It was cleaner, and the blood on the walls and my bed sheets had been cleared away. My science books were placed back onto my bed, exactly how I liked them while the Scottish brute herself rested on hers with her eyes closed. This was the clearest possible signal that I was forgiven. Helga knew about my issues, about my dark past and my problems. She also knew that every so often, something like this would occur and I would always do something like I did earlier to make up for it. This wasn't the first time.

Taking a seat on the bed, I picked up one of my books on psychology before gathering the ability to speak. "I spoke to the Joker. I know why you warned me away from him and-"

"You have feeling for him, don't you?" The words died in my throat, and I felt my heart speed up. My stomach dropped, and it seemed like there was a lump in my throat that was preventing me from breathing properly.

"Wha...I-what?"

"Don't even try to deny it. It's obvious! I watched you as you spoke with him, blushing and smiling like some stupid school girl."

"Helga-"

"It's fine, I mean you're both perfect for each other. You're both bloody monsters, aren't you?"

I was completely lost for worlds. My tongue refused to generate proper words, so only strangle, gargling noises left my mouth. I knew deep down that I felt something for the clown man, but I never planned on coming to terms with that. But, if Helga could spit it that easily, then maybe it really was obvious. Maybe I really did have feeling for the clown, and maybe everyone knew that. What if he knew it? If he did, if the Joker knew how I felt for him, then I'd be putty in his hands. In fact, maybe I already was. Maybe I was already moulded perfectly for the Joker, and today's conversation was me being used for his benefit.

Helga had turned her back on me, signalling that she wasn't in the mood for any more of my lies. Things were changing, and it didn't seem like they were going to stop anytime soon. I was hurting a lot of people, and I could feel myself changing just as much as everyone else. Not one human likes change, but at some point in everyone's life, everyone must witness change. However, in Arkham you weren't supposed to change. You were supposed to stay the mental criminal you were until you died. None of these changes were positive, however. With every change, everything got that little bit more…deadlier.


	5. Chapter 5

© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter Five-The formula for love

~Eliza Blue~

For three whole weeks, I had point blank refused to leave my cell. At one point, even Helga was speaking with me again, asking why I wouldn't leave and if I would ever return to the outer cell. Every time she'd ask, I would simply shoo her away, promising that I would leave soon enough. Of course, my words were lies. I didn't plan on leaving the comfort of my cell for at least the next five years, hopefully more. Leaving my cell was a mistake, and I was a fool for ever promising to do it. All that had ever come from it was trouble, trouble and change.

On the brighter side, I had managed to fit in a lot of revision and reading. With my 'schedule' now being completely cleared, I was left with plenty of time to read and inform myself once more. The world of science was a lot less confusing and challenging compared to the world of reality. The bruises under my eyes were still apparent, yet they were gradually fading. My cuts had healed over into scabs, some had already scarred. As for Helga, there was a fine scar on her cheek from the book, but her lip and nose had healed quite well. Things appeared to be gradually going back to normal.

Whether my feelings remained for the Joker or not, I didn't know. In all honesty, I had never had much experience with emotion like this, and so I didn't know if these feelings ever went away, or if they ever faded. Whenever a thought of the clown crossed my mind, my heart would immediately speed up. Heat would always rush across my cheeks and up to my ears. A smile would always play at my lips at the thought of him. However, my stomach would always drop and twist whenever his name crossed my mind. A lump would always form in my throat, and the feeling of being absolutely breathless-as if my lungs had been squeezed dry-would always remain for many hours afterwards.

The emotion I felt towards the Joker hadn't been spoken of since that day three weeks ago. But, there was always the undeniable pang in my heart at the realisation of how long I had gone without seeing him, without speaking to him or being in his presence. Many times a day did I worry for his emotions, for what I had done to him by suddenly abandoning him like so. I worried about whether I had leaded him on, by promising to finish the unfinished business. However, I knew it was for the best. When monsters play together, people get hurt. Nine times out of ten, people also ended up dead.

Currently, I was rested on the floor, with my back pressed against the far wall as I buried myself into a book of chemistry. Polish chemists had recently found a way to make something rather close to kryptonite, called krypton monoxide. In order to make kryptonite, we would have to bond krypton with nitrogen, which isn't quite possible due to krypton's low reactivity. However, under an incredibly high amount of pressure, we can bond krypton with oxygen to form krypton monoxide. It was all rather fascinating, the fact that scientists were now forming substances close to the harmful to Superman substance itself, kryptonite.

My skeleton nearly jumped out of my skin when three loud knocks erupted from the thick, metal cell door. Criminals were not allowed to enter other criminal's cell, so shouting 'come in' wasn't an option. Carefully, I closed the chemistry book before placing my reading glasses on top of it. Whoever was at the door was giving me a bad feeling, a burning sensation of fear at the pit of my stomach. When I was only a few steps away from the cell door, three more knocks rippled through again, exactly the same as the knocks before. With a trembling hand, I reached out and twisted the handle, allowing the door to glide open.

Leaning against the door frame, with a raised eyebrows and a frown on his face, was the clown man himself. "Your Scottish friend tells me you're perfectly fine, and that you're being stubborn and outright refusing to come out of your cell."

"She would be correct in telling you so." My tone of voice was distant, for I wasn't really paying attention. The Joker had left his purple blazer coat behind, and his blue shirt sleeves were rolled up over his elbows. The clown man had muscular arms, with veins that were easily visible.

"Tell me why. Why did you abandon the outer cell so suddenly?"

Unsure on how to reply, I linked my fingers together while I thought over the words I desperately wanted to voice. "Because it's bad for me. You're bad for me. And I'm bad for you. They say that birds of a feather flock together, which is exactly what we'd do. But when people like us come together, everyone else gets hurt."

"Why do you care?" The Joker didn't sound heartless as he spoke these words, instead he sounded curious.

"I don't want to live up to their monstrous expectations of me. I don't care about people getting hurt, I couldn't care less. I don't want to be what they think I am, because then I really am predictable and transparent."

Somewhere, I was aware of how emotional I was being, of how much I was telling the Joker, letting him in. But I didn't care; it felt so good to not have to keep all the emotion in for once, to have some so willing to listen that I could finally voice all of my vulnerabilities. "Well, if it's any consolation, I don't care. You know, many people thought that you were dead. They said that you had crawled back to your cell to die, after Helga's 'beating', your fragile body couldn't handle it."

"My body isn't fragile." A defensive tone had taken to my voice, making me sound like a toddler.

The Joker's manic grin was gradually making its way back onto his face. "I have known you for exactly three weeks and two days now. That's five hundred and fifty two hours that I've known you. And it's only taken me five hundred and fifty two hours to fall for you." With those last words uttered, the clown man turned on his heel and strode away from my cell, back to his dark corner with the pale looking body guard. My mouth hung open as I stared after him with wide eyes. I couldn't quite process the Joker's words, but every time they played over in my mind, I was hit ten times harder.

Now I needed to leave my cell, I had to enter the outer cell in order to find the Joker and tell him to explain himself and his actions and words. I needed to demand that he explained to me exactly why he told me he had fallen for me, and then left me on my own. Slowly, I took a few steps back into my cell before gently closing the door. My mind raced at the thought of what had just happened, what the Joker had just said. If Helga knew, then she would go absolutely ballistic. My feet paced back and forth; my heart raced; my stomach twisted and my fingers trembled.

Then a thought occurred to me, a way I could make an excuse to leave my cell. After collecting my chemistry book on formulas and placing my reading glasses on the end of my nose, I strode out of the cell while allowing as much dignity as possible to evaporate from my body. I caught people staring at me, sending looks of curiosity or shock my way. When I made it to the Joker-I noticed how his body guard didn't try to stop me-I placed the chemistry book down on the table, the page showing the formula for love. "The formula for love is: C8H11NO2 + C10H12N2O + C43H66N12O12S2, which is dopamine + serotonin + oxytocin. These can easily be formed in a laboratory, and overdosing on any of these can cause: schizophrenia, insanity and extreme paranoia. Are you still sure you want to fall for me?"

My chest was heaving, and my finger was still pointed at the formula printed on the page. Carefully, the Joker closed the chemistry book and stood up from his seat. "Falling in love with someone is not an option. You can't choose it, and you can't choose not to fall for someone; it just happens." With his hands resting on the table, I watched as he leaned closer to me, his voice lowering as he spoke. "I'm already insane, and paranoia comes with the job. Schizophrenia doesn't scare me, what's one more mental illness?" My heart was beating so hard in my chest that I was sure that even the Joker could hear it.

Swallowing several times in order to clear the lump in my throat, I brought my arms up to my chest before folding them. "Love is deadly. It's dangerous and it's like a drug. I'm already addicted to two dangerous substances, I'm not sure that a third would be all too good." I tried to keep my voice as steady as possible; I tried to fill it with confidence and courage.

"What are you already addicted to, might I ask?" With one eyebrow raised once more, I watched as the Joker's tongue trailed over his bottom lip.

"I'm addicted to knowledge. And I'm also addicted to a mass murdering, psychopathic clown. Throw love into the equation, and we have the perfect formula for disaster."

Pushing himself up from the table, the Joker trailed around until he was stood right in front of me. "Well, I always believed that a catastrophe was much more fun." Forget my heart beating like a rabbits, it was now hammering away at the speed of a humming birds. My whole body was buzzing, with adrenaline pulsing through my veins and blood pounding in my ears. My mind raced, but the way the Joker made me feel was undeniable. He made me feel like I was high, quite literally. He took away all of the control I had and made everything chaotic. Something about that, the thrill that rippled through my body, was also addictive. And I loved it.

Deep down, I had known it all along. Since the day I met the Joker, I had found myself spiralling into the hell of love. The way his lips curved when he smiled, the way he glanced at me with admiration and approval when I dealt with the trouble that got tossed my way and the way he cared. The way he listens, and speaks to me with such care, a care I had never been shown. Just because I was a murderer, a mad scientist with an unhealthy addiction, didn't mean that I didn't want to be loved. Because I did, I wanted someone who could see my demon, and love that demon as much as I loved his. Maybe, just maybe that was the Joker. Maybe that wasn't. But the thrill would've been worth it all.


	6. Chapter 6

© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter Six-Missing clown man

~Eliza Blue~

For many months after that encounter, the Joker was a complete no show. It was as if he had evaporated into thin air, for there was no sight of him. Not a sound was made from his cell, and there was no form of shadow movement either. At first, I had thought that he was going to take a few days, maybe he had something to do that required all of his attention. After two weeks, I began to worry that the clown was terribly ill. Once three months had passed, I was sure that he had died. My mind was certain that his body was tossed on the floor, slowly decaying without anyone's realisation.

Of course, I waited. Over the small amount of time that I had known the Joker, I had grown dearly fond of him. He was a unique specimen, a taste of something different. One of a kind. So, patiently at first, I would watch from the door of my cell, wondering what day he would decide to return to the outer cell. After a while, I braved actually leaving my cell in order to investigate. Maybe if the Joker saw me, he would come out. But that didn't work either. With every day that the clown was a no show, I got more and more disheartened. However, the more disheartened I got, the more furious I became.

There were a few perks to my lonesome adventures outside of the cell. For instance, I gained knowledge on the other criminals inside of Arkham. The Joker's bodyguard, Dexter, had only been in Arkham for two years. He had 'worked' as the clowns body guard for just over a year, with the Joker's sworn protection in return. Dexter was a paranoid schizophrenic, and the voices in his head had assured him that his family were actually imposters, pretending to be his wife and kids. Three dead children and a dead woman later, Dexter realised that the voices had lied. According to the GCPD, he was sectioned for his own good.

Dexter was a tall man, with a broad body. His eyes were piercing green and his head was hair less. His skin was rather pale, and his nose was long and straight. With thin lips and dimpled cheeks, I couldn't see the killer within him. Maybe some people were better at hiding their demons compared to others. The clothes that Dexter wore were more of a uniform. Consisting of a black blazer with a white shirt and tie, he also wore black office trousers and patent black trousers. That was as official as he was allowed to go. "I used to work as a chauffeur, that's where my uniform came from. Of course, my badge and cap were taken from me once I was sectioned, apparently I couldn't be trusted." Dexter had explained to me, with a mournful expression.

After that conversation, I had found myself constantly expressing empathy for him. It couldn't have been easy, murdering your family when you didn't really want it. The voices in your head being the ones to blame, and yet you were the one being punished. I could only express empathy, because when I killed, I wanted it, and I had no voices in my head telling me what to do. "Nightmares still haunt me." He had continued with a heavy sigh. "I loved my wife and kids so much."

"Love isn't always a good thing."

"That is true, but it was beautiful while it lasted."

The Joker's bodyguard wasn't the only one I gained knowledge about. Helga had a little pet, a small man with depression named Apollo. He claimed that only Helga could make him feel better, and so he stayed by her side. Apollo had brown hair, but he was balding at the top of his head from age. His eyes were a faded brown, just like everything else about him. Apollo's skin was light brown, with darker patches in certain places. Some teeth were missing from his mouth, causing him to whistle every so often when he spoke. With everything considered, Apollo was still a kind, depressing man.

There were two groups in the outer cell, two leaders and their second in commands. Without a fail, every day they would show their faces and swear that the other team was up to no good. It was a male against female war, one that was not so viscous. On the female side, was Messiah. She was the leader of the females, and her two 'Hench Women' were Kansas and Atlas. On the male side, Caesar was the captain. His second in commands were named Jedi and Scout. Both Caesar and Messiah were subtly vicious to one another, yet each group varied quite significantly.

Messiah, Kansas and Atlas were from the Amazon. Their cocoa skin contrasted against their black eyes. Messiah was the tallest and strongest, with a proud posture and pure hatred in her eyes. Kansas was the softest out of the entire group, but she was still vicious. Atlas was the shortest out of each member of the group, yet she was the most muscular and contained the most scars. Several small scars painted her face; there was not one part that wasn't covered. Messiah had a large scar that trailed all the way down from her right shoulder blade to the small of her back. Kansas had a vine of scars all down her left arm, looping like a snake or a vine. True to their origin, each girl wore Amazonian styled clothing, with feathers decorating their hair and war paint tattooed onto their faces-not literally.

Caesar, Jedi and Scout all originated from Africa. Their skin was darker, yet their eyes were a light hazel shade. Caesar was the tallest and most muscular. He only wore a 'skirt' around his waist, showing off his muscles and scars. Whip marks remained all over his back, and slashes were imprinted onto his skin all over his torso. Jedi was shorter than Caesar, but not by much. His eyes spoke wisdom, but his mouth spoke violence. Scout was the shortest out of the group, again not a lot shorter than Caesar. The scars on his body were the worst out of the entire group, with long slashes all over his back, shoulders, face, legs and torso. Jedi had scars of his own, by only around his neck. Both Scout and Jedi wore a 'skirt'; however it also looped over their chest, only revealing one side of their muscular chest.

Few others remained after this. Fraser and Diem were an old couple that had lost all sanity a long time ago. They remained together, rocking away in the corner, refusing to socialise with anyone else other than themselves. Novalie and Moxie were two Asian teenagers, who had trained in martial arts until they could kill and steal in complete silence. Kael was a late teen Indian boy, who never spoke a word but would look you up and down and judge you harshly once a day. Each criminal had a unique aspect of their own, something that differentiated them from the others. Yet, none of them compared to the Joker.

While I rested, with my back against the chair, I noticed how each criminal had continuously sent me strange looks. For a moment, I had been tempted to say something to them, but decided against it. "Dexter."

"Yes, Miss Blue?"

"Why does everyone continue to stare at me like I am sat calmly while being burnt alive?" I tried to keep my voice low, but noticed a few pairs of eyes flicker away.

"You are sat in the Joker's seat, Miss, and your appearances have become ever so regular." Thinking this over, I nodded my head before adjusting my eyes to the ground.

"I see."

Over the months, my heart had become heavier and heavier. Deep down, I knew that I should give up. It was clear that the Joker was toying with me, playing with me to get what he wanted. But my heart continued to overrule my head, with the small speck of hope that he would return, and soothe away all of my doubts. "Has he ever done anything like this before?" I asked, meeting Dexter's eyes.

"I don't believe so, sorry Miss." So many different emotions bubbled inside of me. Anger, confusion, sadness and hope. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I nodded my head a few times before sighing.

Concluding that, in a time of need, science would be there for me, I stood from my resting position. "I'm collecting a science book." Although I acted it so that I was informing Dexter, really I was soothing the curiosity of the other criminals, for their eyes were gazing my way.

"You haven't read one on physics in a while, Miss Blue." I didn't really know why Dexter spoke to me so formally. Maybe that was how he was supposed to speak with the Joker, but it wasn't necessary for me. However, it would've been too much work to tell him so, and so I just allowed it to be left alone.

Back at my cell, I allowed myself to take several deep breaths in order to clear the squeezing sensation in my chest. With an ache at the pit of my stomach, I searched through the pile of books in order to find one on physics. It wasn't necessarily my favourite science, but what Dexter had said was true. Concluding that one on Space should cheer me up well enough, I collected my reading glasses. There was a pinch in my chest, a twist in my stomach and an ache in my eyes. This uncomfortable feeling had become familiar to me over the past months. It made me feel sick.

A ripple of hesitation surged through me, as if warning me not to return outside. It was enough to halt me in my tracks, stopping dead cold. With my book clutched between my fingers, and my reading glasses rested on my nose, I watched the scene before me intently. Everything seemed perfectly normal, but the lump in my throat grew as another shockwave of fear surged inside of me. Cautioning me, warning me to back up. Yet, I still couldn't understand why. My eyes saw no danger; my ears heard none and I couldn't smell any harmful substances. Yet my body rippled with fear, and a metallic taste was coating my mouth.

Just when I was about to tell myself to get a grip and get a hold of myself, a piercing sound surged through the outer cell. Every criminal stood to its feet, poised and ready to take action. A robotic voice spoke mere moments afterwards, and its words were least expected. "This is a criminal breakout. I repeat, this is a criminal breakout." And then, sirens erupted from the speakers.


	7. Chapter 7

© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter Seven-Prison breakout

~Eliza Blue~

Every other psychopath was scrambling to its feet, sprinting for the opened cell door. The guards were nowhere to be seen, it was as if they had vanished into thin air like magicians. On the other hand, I was frozen to the spot, only able to watch the scenery before me with horror. My body refused to move, I wasn't breathing or even thinking. My mouth hung open in a silent scream. Everything I knew, everything I had grown used to, was crumbling away before my eyes.

In the distance, I could see Dexter charging for my cell. "Miss Blue! Miss Blue! You need to go, we need to get out." My head shook furiously, just as vigorously as my hands.

"No, no! You go, Dexter get out of here." With a look to his right, the Joker's bodyguard gave me a sharp nod before sprinting off. Never, had I ever felt so terrified. Messiah, Caesar and their soldiers were the first criminals out, storming for the open cage door. After them, every other criminal had followed. Helga had taken a hold of Apollo and had charged away long ago, Kael and Novalie and Moxie had clambered over the others for the exit after Diem and Fraser.

The room had erupted before my eyes. Everyone was running, sprinting and screaming. Everything was alive in a chaotic manner, moving with unbelievable ferocity. I was being abandoned, left behind without a second glance. It was suddenly like being in the wild, criminal against criminal, every man for itself. People were getting shoved away, trampled on and kicked to the back. Fights were starting between cell mates as each one left the outer cell. Arkham Asylum had lost all order; everything that I knew about it was gone, wiped away before my eyes.

Once Dexter was out, I was alone. Yet, I wasn't quite completely alone. With trembling legs, I took a few shaking steps out of the cell. I was torn, I didn't know whether to head for the Joker's cell and risk getting trapped, losing my chance for freedom. My mind buzzed, should I just leave him behind? My heart was racing in my chest, like a horse galloping in a race for its life. Out of pure anger and pain, I started to cautiously make my way for the cage doors. The Joker had abandoned me for months, why should I bother with him?

Only a few mere steps closer, I felt my heart stop cold as a cell door creaked open. My body froze, the only thing moving was my neck as it twisted to that I could see where the noise had come from. "Leaving so soon?" Filled with relief and anger, I felt my body unfreeze as I charged for the Joker himself. My arms laced themselves around his broad body as soon as I was close enough.

"You left me for three months!" The pain in my voice was undeniable, and so was the anger. "Three months you didn't show your stupid face! Why? Why?" My voice had risen to a scream, and I felt my face reddening and I stepped away from the clown.

The Joker looked different. There were black crescents under his eyes, visible through the white face paint. His make-up had smudged off, revealing most of his natural face. The clown's eyes were bloodshot, and there seemed to be a lack of energy inside of him. His clothes were crumpled, like paper that had been folded too many times. The blue tie that was usually laced around his neck was instead untied, and rested over his shoulders. His hair had been pushed out of his face, and so white face paint trickled up the roots and throughout the green.

The sirens shut off suddenly, bringing both the Joker and I back to life. "Talk later. Right now, we need to get out!" Still furious, I took the Joker's hand with a huff. My ears were ringing from the lack of noise, but my chest still heaved with anxiety and the speed of how fast we were running. My mind raced with a thousand different questions that pestered my mind like a bug. I wanted to scream at the Joker, to hit him with fury before collapsing into tears. What he had done to me...it was exactly why I always closed off all of my feelings. Emotions get you hurt, every time.

It was clear that the Joker knew where he was going, however I had no clue where we were. At some point we came across some guards, their guns aimed right for our heads. Being the useless person that I was, I found myself freezing on the spot with a gasp. The Joker, however, simply whipped out a gun from nowhere and swiftly shot down each guard before they could even pull on the trigger. "You really are no good in a crisis, are you?"

"Well, maybe if I was armed I would be of more use." The clown's words had boiled my blood; it angered to have him criticise me after what he had done to me after the past three months.

With my teeth grinding and fists clenched, I collected a gun of my own from a moaning guard. Silencing him with another bullet, I turned to the Joker with a fire burning in my eyes. "Where are we going?"

"Out, we're leaving." With that, he started forwards once more. My feet followed behind him, and my entire body felt completely numb. It appeared that my brain had shut down from all the mixed emotions; everything felt like a dream-completely surreal. My tongue ached to voice my hatred and questions towards the Joker; however I didn't even trust myself to open my mouth.

Usually, in a situation like this, an average person's mind would shut off and focus completely on the task ahead. Obviously, I'm not an average person, for my mind wouldn't stop racing with a thousand different thoughts. Every question disorientated me a bit more, and it seemed like the entire world was spinning around me, making me dizzy and...sleepy. The lump in my throat continued to grow, and a strong headache was developing all over my brain. My numb hands were shaking, or maybe my entire body was shaking. Sweat trickled down my face, dampening my hair and sticking it to my temples and cheeks.

Continuing to follow the Joker with heavy feet, I felt the world turn and churn, causing me to stumble. My hands hit the floor, along with my head and knees. Warm liquid started to gush down my forehead, and I felt a similar sensation pool from my hands and knees. By the feeling, it appeared that I had fallen right onto broken glass. "Dammit." The words were uttered from my mouth, before being echoed by another voice. Hands clawed at my arms, tugging my heavy body up and resting it against another body.

"Eliza?" My brain connected the voice was a name, or at least a title. The Joker.

Pushing myself off of the body, I stumbled ahead while wiping the blood from my eyes. "I'm fine!" It was meant to come out as a stubborn yell, but instead my mouth could only mumble it. The room was spinning, and the hit to the head had only disorientated me even more. I couldn't understand why my body was melting down, for it had never happened before. Had I been drugged? Or maybe, had my body had decided to give up, at last? I could hear the Joker right behind me; feel his heavy breath on the back of my neck. "Really, I said I'm fine."

My intentions were to turn around, and to hold the Joker back so that I could gather some distance. I was supposed to assure him that I was okay, and that I could care for myself. Instead, what I did was the opposite. With trembling legs, I attempted to turn around, only to find them twisting and tripping over themselves. Blood was still pouring from my body, and the lump in my throat was now suffocating me. Everything happened in slow motion. I watched as the Joker's face dropped with fear as he realised what had happened. I felt air rush past me as my body fell to the floor, knees buckling before finally crashing to the ground. Everything went dark as my eyes rolled into the back of my head. Sweat and blood had collided to form a salty and metallic mixture in my mouth. Everything was numb, everything was dark and everything felt...slow, peaceful.

The last thing I felt before everything stopped moving, was my body colliding with the cold, hard ground. I felt my head whack against the ground, my arms hit the floor with force and my body crushed my legs under its dead weight. I had no idea what had happened. Everything was normal one minute, and then my entire life had crashed before my very eyes. One minute, I was collecting a physics book to make me feel better, and in the next, everything was chaos. Now, I was crumpled on the ground, like a broken doll.


End file.
